Page 54 of Fear the Fall
“Leave,” I command, turning my back on him and preparing to summon the storm so I can take out my rage on the demons of New Orleans.
He huffs, “Calm down. He’s not with her. He has some unfinished business with a certain archangel.”
He’s not in my head for once, which is obvious by how badly he’s read me. It’s knowing that he’s been lying to me about the Nephilim, and for much longer than twenty-four hours, that bothers me. And that he lied to me about where he was headed.
“How do you know he’s meeting Leeanna?”
“I had a minion follow him. Apparently, the angel is not very happy with him.”
“Stop following Zeke.” I’m not sure why I’m defending my current Judas, but I don’t like Luke poking around my business, and Zeke and his lies are definitely my business.
“He’s not good enough for you.”
“And you are?” I yell, sounding more unhinged by the second.
“I can make you feel better than anyone on Earth, Victoria.”
“You have an unfair advantage, Satan,” I snap back, feeling more out of control every second I’m this close to him. “Given you’re prince of lust and lies, I’d say it’s all smoke and mirrors. Nothing about our time together was real.”
“I’ve never lied to you. It was the truth you couldn’t handle.”
“You mean the truth about you being the devil,” I screech, wanting to run away—anywhere to be far from him.
“It doesn’t change that everything I said to you was fact. I’d have done anything to have you by my side, Victoria. You could’ve ruled with me.”
“Stop,” I say, clutching my ears to drown out his lies. “Just leave me alone.”
“Look at me,” he says, grabbing my hip with one hand and my chin with the other, forcing me to meet his incensed stare.
I glare, hoping that every single ounce of hate I bear for him seeps from my eyes and burrows deep into his blackened soul. Assuming he even has one.
He swallows and I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs. Against every molecule of my being, my insides melt at the simple motion. Every word he’s spoken makes me quiver with want. My body screams for me to give in to him, and I hate it. I tear my eyes away, wanting to punish myself for being so easily manipulated.
“You got what you wanted. I fell, Luke.” His nickname slips too easily from my lips, and his eyes close, something serene passing over his face, making me loathe him even more. He doesn’t get to relish in my weakness. “What else do you want to take from me?”
“I don’t want to take anything, Victoria. I simply want what I once had,” he says, green eyes penetrating my every defense.
“What?” I say, sounding more tired than anything else.
“You.”
I let out a bitter laugh. This dance between us is exhausting and demeaning. The fact that one profession of possession has a sense of peace falling over me proves that I’ve learned nothing. I’m a glutton for the devil’s deceptions. I yearn for them. I might as well throw myself at his feet, offering my body as his concubine. I’ve fallen so far from grace.
“Go,” I whisper, internally begging him to show me kindness this once.
He flinches, taking a step away from me, leaving me feeling colder than I have in a long time. I feel his loss so deeply, I almost beg him to hold me again.
“I’ll go, Victoria. But this isn’t the end. You owe me a debt.” He disappears without another word.
Nothing has changed. I’m pathetic. He still holds my heart in his hands, and that truth alone makes me sick. I wish he’d end this cruel captivation and crush the worthless organ once and for all. I’ve been an empty shell for two years. Putting me out of my misery would be a kindness. Another one he owes me.